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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27791140">hung on a hook</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/palmsxieri/pseuds/palmsxieri'>palmsxieri</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>dream angst [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Video Blogging RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Ambiguous/Open Ending, Heavy Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Suicide, I’m sorry, please please please read these tags they’re very important</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 14:35:04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,012</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27791140</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/palmsxieri/pseuds/palmsxieri</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Looking back, Dream wonders what happened.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>dream angst [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2087385</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>180</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>hung on a hook</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>PLEASE READ THE TAGS!</p>
<p>there are triggers in this and i cannot stress that enough. </p>
<p>also, this is a work of fiction. i’m sure you know that but i felt the need to clarify. </p>
<p>this fic is based on “hung on a hook” by alice in chains.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>Hung on a hook I'm a mirror</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p><em><span>Cracked down the</span></em> <em>center<span> I</span></em> <em><span>split</span></em><em><span> you</span></em></p>
<p><em><span>Counting the</span></em> <em><span>clouds</span></em><em><span> in a</span></em> <em><span>storm</span></em><em><span> behind your eyes</span></em></p>
<p>
  <span>His reflection stared tauntingly at him, a reminder of the failure he’d become. (No one thought that.) Dream’s eyes caught on the lengthy crack down the center of his reflection, letting out a hollow laugh. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Funny, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he thought. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Just like the real thing.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He put on a persona for people to be able to be able to experience something lighthearted in a time of need. How ironic. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The bottle of pills sitting on his counter looked tempting. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Show you the face of a man who</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p><em><span>Not that he</span></em> <em><span>wants</span></em><em><span> but he has to</span></em></p>
<p><em><span>Look at the</span></em> <em><span>thing</span></em><em><span> he's become, what I see</span></em></p>
<p>
  <span>Looking back, Dream wonders what happened. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was so happy with George and Sapnap. He had an SMP that was getting others tons of views and he was making new friends, people he didn’t think he’d ever talk to. He had a growing fanbase that cared about him (albeit, some of them cared a little too much) and was proud of him. He had Bad, who was more of a father figure than he’d ever experienced before, and Tommy and Tubbo, who were like little brothers to him, even though he’d blown them up countless times. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dream wonders when he let all of that go. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’d withdrawn himself from a lot, only showing up in calls when it was necessary in Wilbur’s script, sometimes avoiding that like the plague. He stopped his speedruns because of toxic people in his chats, and as much as he denied it, it </span>
  <em>
    <span>hurt. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He was human, he felt pain, sue him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Of course, George and Sap picked up on it extremely quickly, reassuring him that it would be alright and that they were always there for him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Realistically, he knew that, so why was he in this position in the first place? </span>
</p>
<p><em><span>I'm</span></em> <em><span>caught</span></em><em><span> in a</span></em> <em><span>still</span></em><em><span> life with no frame</span></em></p>
<p><em><span>Sometimes</span></em> <em><span>people</span></em><em><span> do, the</span></em> <em><span>world</span></em><em><span> it don't change</span></em></p>
<p><em><span>I'm</span></em> <em><span>caught</span></em><em><span> in a</span></em> <em><span>still</span></em><em><span> life with no frame</span></em></p>
<p><em><span>Sometimes</span></em> <em><span>people</span></em><em><span> do, the</span></em> <em><span>world</span></em><em><span> it don't change</span></em></p>
<p>
  <span>The weight of the bottle in his hands is crushing. The plastic burns him from the inside as he stares at the small writings on the label. Glancing up at himself, he takes into consideration just how burnt out he looks. There are bags under his eyes as a result of not being able to sleep for more than two hours at a time. His hair is tousled and is a mess, his shirt is wrinkled, his sweats have a stain on them from whenever he last ate. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When he pours the pills into his hand, the shake rattles through his brain. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He stares at the handful for a little while. He puts the bottle down roughly, knocking it over onto the floor. </span>
  <em>
    <span>That</span>
  </em>
  <span> sound lingers in his brain even more. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He shoves the pills into his mouth, taking a deep breath. His reflection stares back at him and tells him to swallow them. Tells him that no one will miss him. Tells him he’s alone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His phone’s obnoxiously loud alert diverts his attention for a second. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>2:34 am</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>sapnap: dre join teamspeak george is bullying bad :(</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em><span>Give up</span></em> <em><span>awaiting</span></em><em><span> someday</span></em></p>
<p><em><span>Future</span></em> <em><span>between</span></em><em><span> a gun, and your head</span></em></p>
<p>
  <span>He spits out the pills.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>***</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Pieces of me on a tile floor</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p><em><span>Look up at you as you</span></em> <em><span>change</span></em><em><span> more</span></em></p>
<p><em><span>Floating in fear I</span></em> <em><span>appear</span></em><em><span> a</span></em> <em><span>hundred</span></em><em><span> times</span></em></p>
<p>
  <span>The shattered mirror peers up at him menacingly. Shards of glass stick out of his knuckles but he’s numb, physical pain doing nothing to stop him from feeling. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He can see himself in every shard. It’s terrifying. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Every version of himself is a reminder of why he’s there in the first place. </span>
</p>
<p><em><span>Hold a</span></em> <em><span>reflection</span></em><em><span> inside me</span></em></p>
<p><em><span>I</span></em> <em><span>cannot</span></em><em><span> feel you are empty</span></em></p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Throw me away</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p><em><span>I am</span></em> <em><span>broken</span></em><em><span> not your time</span></em></p>
<p>
  <span>This time he’s in the bath. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’d ranted on twitter earlier, just to get his feelings off his chest. He didn’t expect it to go well, but he didn’t expect as much hate as he got. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He couldn’t help but scroll through his replies. It was a bad habit he never broke, and it was said habit that broke him. </span>
</p>
<p><em><span>I'm</span></em> <em><span>caught</span></em><em><span> in a</span></em> <em><span>still</span></em><em><span> life with no frame</span></em></p>
<p><em><span>Sometimes</span></em> <em><span>people</span></em><em><span> do, the</span></em> <em><span>world</span></em><em><span> it don't change</span></em></p>
<p><em><span>I'm</span></em> <em><span>caught</span></em><em><span> in a</span></em> <em><span>still</span></em><em><span> life with no frame</span></em></p>
<p><em><span>Sometimes</span></em> <em><span>people</span></em><em><span> do, the</span></em> <em><span>world</span></em><em><span> it don't change</span></em></p>
<p>
  <span>Dream lets himself sink further into his tub until just his head is above the water, slightly tinted pink from his knuckles. He picks at the glass in them, releasing more blood. The glass slides out easily and the pain is grounding. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There’s nothing interesting about his ceiling, but he stares at it anyway. </span>
  <em>
    <span>It’s fitting</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he thinks, </span>
  <em>
    <span>that something so plain and boring is what I’m left with.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’s never really thought of himself as an interesting person, anyway. That was always George or Sap’s job. </span>
</p>
<p><em><span>Give up</span></em> <em><span>awaiting</span></em><em><span> someday</span></em></p>
<p><em><span>Future</span></em> <em><span>between</span></em><em><span> a gun</span></em></p>
<p>
  <span>He lets his head fall under the water.</span>
</p>
<p><em><span>Give up</span></em> <em><span>awaiting</span></em><em><span> someday</span></em></p>
<p><em><span>Future</span></em> <em><span>between</span></em><em><span> a gun and your head</span></em></p>
<p>
  <span>It takes a minute for his eyes to get used to the feeling, but the ceiling is just as boring when they do.</span>
</p>
<p><em><span>Not</span></em> <em><span>gonna</span></em><em><span> save you</span></em></p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Perform euthanasia</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’s not sure how long he stays under the water for. The need to breathe is excruciating and there’s black dancing at the corners of his eyes, but he finds some solace in the boring ceiling. It’s unmoving and calm. </span>
</p>
<p><em><span>Not</span></em> <em><span>gonna</span></em><em><span> save you</span></em></p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Perform euthanasia</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His ears ring again, and it’s annoying. </span>
</p>
<p><em><span>Not</span></em> <em><span>gonna</span></em><em><span> save you</span></em></p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Perform euthanasia</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Something whispers to him. Someone, maybe. He’s not sure. It sounds like George, maybe. Or Sapnap. Or maybe even Bad. Or all three of them. His head is pounding and his lungs are on fire.</span>
</p>
<p><em><span>Not</span></em> <em><span>gonna</span></em><em><span> save you</span></em></p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Perform euthanasia</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He smiles. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>***</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>3:56 am</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>sapnap: dream? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>sapnap: cmon dude i know youre awake</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>4:32 am</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>sapnap: clay? </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>uhh</p>
<p>sorry :(</p>
<p>i’m gonna let you decide what the ending means. :)</p>
<p>feedback is welcome</p></blockquote></div></div>
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